9 p.m.
"Whew~ so, we still have a lot of work to do."
Inside a single guest room at Viridian City's Pokémon Center, Silas smiled as he spoke to Blaziken.
"Blaziken."
Blaziken nodded. Even while inside its Poké Ball earlier, it had heard and seen the entire process of Bruno's guidance.
There was no denying—it had gained a great deal.
"Alright, everyone, listen up. From now on, training is going to get rough. It won't be as easy as traveling has been."
After giving instructions to his three veteran partners, Silas turned to look at Servine and Togepi.
And of course, the pink Pokémon Egg resting in the incubator.
"Servine! Toge-pee!"
The two little ones responded with excitement, practically bursting with eagerness.
The Pokémon Egg wobbled gently as if echoing their enthusiasm.
"Servine, your first goal is still to evolve into Serperior. Even if you've mastered Vine Whip now, you'll need to adapt quickly to the limbless, serpentine style of movement after evolution.
"Second, we need to work on strengthening moves. For Swords Dance—Blaziken, I'll have you guide it.
"As for the other moves, I'll find some teachers for you later.
"For offensive skills, we'll take things one step at a time. Tomorrow, our focus will be on Nature Power.
"The principle is similar to Secret Power. The difference is, one uses residual energy from Berries inside you, while the other draws directly from the elemental energy of the environment around you.
"Based on the energy flow models, first you should do this… then that… and afterward, from the formula we can derive—"
Servine's eyes widened, listening intently.
"Servine…"
I'm just a Pokémon. I don't understand formulas. Can you just tell me what to do directly?
It sighed inwardly.
Its three senior teammates chuckled quietly from the side. Long ago, they'd gone through the same experience.
But since their journey began, Silas rarely taught this way anymore—most of their training was monotonous fundamentals.
Togepi, meanwhile, wanted nothing more than to escape. The lecture hadn't even reached it yet, and already its head was spinning.
This isn't something Pokémon are supposed to listen to…
Still, Silas continued earnestly.
For most Pokémon, instinct was enough to release a move. With practice, repetition made them more fluent, and the power naturally increased.
Most Trainers could only fine-tune their Pokémon's habits slightly to polish the edges.
But Silas was different.
In this world, researchers and Professors had long used technology to analyze and simulate a Pokémon's state while using moves.
They had even developed formulas describing the flow of energy behind attacks, and from that, a so-called "simplified" way to learn them.
Of course—simplified only in their eyes.
The mainstream method was still one Pokémon teaching another a move it already knew. That fact alone proved the formula-based way was anything but simple.
It demanded much more of the Trainer than the Pokémon.
Because this method essentially turned the Trainer into a stand-in Pokémon that "knew every move," teaching their partners directly.
But humans weren't Pokémon. They couldn't breathe fire or spit water. Every "move" they understood existed only in theory.
Only those with a deep grasp of the formulas and concepts could truly guide a Pokémon through them.
Most people believed—if you had that ability, you'd be better off becoming a Professor, not a Trainer.
But Silas, with his unique talents and the support of Zero, could actually do it.
Teaching moves this way not only sped up mastery but also deepened the bond between Trainer and Pokémon.
And, it made future improvement and cross-application of moves far easier.
Servine focused hard on every detail.
Outside, the full moon hung high. Inside, Silas lectured his Pokémon with notebook in hand.
The Pokémon Egg, which had trembled earlier, was now still.
At the same time—
In a forest far away.
The sound of helicopter blades broke the natural silence.
Nocturnal Pokémon weren't so forgiving.
Especially those rudely awakened from sleep—they were furious.
Calls and cries rang out from all around, drawing nearer.
Shhhk-shhhk-shhhk.
A shadow moved so quickly through the trees it was nearly invisible.
Wherever it passed, the angry cries fell silent, and farther Pokémon, sensing the oppressive presence, hushed as well.
The helicopter descended slowly into a clearing.
"Full now?"
A magnetic male voice called out. It sounded young, but carried the weight of a seasoned man.
He stepped calmly out of the helicopter.
"Bzzzzt!"
The blurred figure landed beside him, revealing itself under the moonlight—Beedrill.
But unlike the common ones in Viridian Forest, this Beedrill was massive.
Not only its body—its twin forearm stingers were oversized even compared to its bulk.
The tip of its rear stinger gleamed with a deadly, cold light—poison so potent it was almost tangible.
Its wings beat with incredible force, the high-frequency hum barely audible, and a trace of blood still clung to its mandibles.
"Too much dessert is bad for you." The man remarked as he approached what looked like an ordinary boulder.
Finding a specific spot, he pressed his palm against it.
A red scan light swept over, followed by the whir of machinery.
The "boulder" suddenly split and sank inward, revealing a stairway leading underground.
The suited man and his Beedrill descended. Behind them, the rock closed back into place.
The walls of the passage glowed brightly with embedded lights.
At the end, instead of the expected hidden base, a platform loomed—its center emblazoned with a giant red R.
Beedrill flew straight to a red button and pressed it.
Hissss—
The machinery whirred, the platform splitting open into an elevator.
The man stepped aboard.
A red light scanned him again, then shifted green.
"Welcome, Boss," an artificial voice intoned.
"Lowest research level," he ordered.
The platform dropped swiftly, plunging down into the depths.
After three or four minutes, it finally stopped.
Clack, clack, clack.
Leather shoes tapped crisply on polished steel flooring.
Waiting in formation were researchers in silver-white lab coats, each bearing the red R on their chests.
"Boss!"
The unified greeting echoed through the underground.
The man nodded faintly. At last, stepping fully into the light, his face was revealed.
It was none other than Giovanni, Viridian Gym Leader and the hidden mastermind of Team Rocket.
"Where is Fuji?" Giovanni asked casually as he walked forward.
"Dr. Fuji is inside Lab One, conducting further observation on the experimental subject," replied one burly, bearded scientist—who looked far more like a grunt than a real researcher.
Giovanni said nothing more. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the gathered researchers and strode through a series of silver-steel security gates, eventually arriving at a massive research chamber.
Inside, dozens of precision instruments flickered and hummed. On the left wall, a row of enormous display screens scrolled with dense streams of unknown symbols and streams of numeric data.
"Inject another one hundred milliliters of Compound No. 3. Monitor the subject's energy-wave fluctuations," commanded an elderly man with round spectacles and a white beard curved like a crescent moon.
Researchers hurried into action immediately.
"Dr. Fuji, how is the progress?" Giovanni asked as he stepped to his side.
"Quite good," Fuji replied without even turning. "Out of forty-two test subjects, No. 2 is by far the most successful. If there are no surprises, within two or three months it will begin developing preliminary consciousness."
His tone was calm, entirely unlike the deferential manner most researchers showed Giovanni.
"Excellent. Very good." Giovanni's voice trembled with excitement.
His eyes fixed on the main monitor—on the great incubation chamber filled with green nutrient fluid.
Suspended within was a silver-gray embryo, faintly tinged with purple. Numerous wires were attached across its form, monitoring every detail of its condition.
"The situation is stable enough. My recommendation is to move this lab elsewhere. Based on the projected energy consumption and fluctuations, the League will inevitably notice," Fuji said, finally turning toward Giovanni.
"Hmm. Then let's relocate it to New Island. Preparations have already been completed." Giovanni nodded—he had planned for this all along.
"How long will it take?"
"Three days."
"Good. I'll make arrangements to disappear for a year."
Hearing Fuji's words, Giovanni's lips curved into a small smile.
Who would have imagined? The kindly old man of Lavender Town, beloved by its people, was now secretly serving Team Rocket for his own ends.
"Don't worry. If the Mewtwo project succeeds, then your hopes for your daughter will succeed as well," Giovanni said, patting Fuji's shoulder.
"…I hope so," Fuji murmured, his cold eyes turning back to the embryo on the monitor—yet his voice quivered with emotion.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Suddenly, an instrument blared with urgent alarms.
"Load Neutralizer Agent—38 milliliters. Administer Compound No. 8—40 milliliters. Increase bioelectric current to Level 2…"
Dr. Fuji rattled off precise instructions, calm and methodical. Years of research had long prepared him for such events.
"Doctor! The consciousness monitor shows irregularities—wait, no, it's stabilized again!" a researcher shouted, staring at the screen.
"Record it. Eighth manifestation of anomalies," Fuji said, his face lighting with joy. "The intervals are shortening each time. We're on the verge of success!"
Though he despised Giovanni, for the sake of his daughter, Fuji explained further:
"Tonight is the time to move. Aside from Pewter and Cerulean, the other Gyms are all tied up with their own affairs. This is the perfect window."
Giovanni immediately gave the order.
Fuji frowned.
"Relax. I didn't arrange the trouble your old friend is dealing with," Giovanni said knowingly.
"The volcano near him is showing signs of eruption. He'll be busy for three or four years at least—he won't have time to interfere with you."
Fuji's face remained cold, eyes locked on the stream of data, as though he hadn't heard a word.
Giovanni didn't press him. He, too, fixed his gaze on the embryo.
How long has it been since I felt such excitement? he thought.
"Bzzzt."
His assassin-like Beedrill, ever silent at his side, sensed its master's stirring emotions and leaned closer.
Giovanni chuckled. Yes—it was just like when he first captured this Beedrill. That same thrill.
But this time… this was different. This was a man-made Legendary Pokémon. His burning gaze seemed as though it would consume the embryo whole.
And in that moment, unknown to everyone present—
"Who… am I?"
A faint psychic ripple echoed within the embryo's mind. Confusion.
Instinctively, it shielded the thought with its natural psychic ability, keeping the tremor hidden.
Aboveground, in the forest night.
"Coo-oo~"
A Noctowl cried, its piercing gaze fixed on a patch of dense trees.
"Tch… so it has Keen Eye instead of Insomnia? Servine, Vine Whip! Leaf Tornado!"
A young man's voice rang out—slightly exasperated.
"Servine~!"
Servine's bright cry answered as two green vines lashed upward toward the Noctowl perched on a branch.
The alert owl Pokémon had been ready. With a powerful flap, it dodged away.
But the next instant—its predicted flight path was suddenly engulfed by a whirlwind of razor-sharp leaves.
Shhhhk!
The storm of blades trapped Noctowl inside, tearing at its feathers and body relentlessly.
"Coo!"
It cried out in pain. The clever bird couldn't understand—why were Grass-type moves, which usually barely hurt, suddenly wounding it so severely?
As it prepared to retaliate, another Vine Whip lashed upward, coiling around one foot and one wing.
"Coo!?"
It lost balance instantly. How could it fly with only one wing?
The vines tightened cruelly, constricting it with pain, then slammed it down onto the ground.
Thud!
Noctowl's head throbbed in agony.
"End it quickly—Magical Leaf."
At the Trainer's cold command, a flurry of blue-violet leaves shot forth, striking Noctowl and knocking it out.
"Coo…"
As darkness claimed it, the last thought in its mind was: My poor feathers…
From the brush, Silas emerged cheerfully with Servine, collecting fallen feathers.
"Nice, just molted recently," he muttered, twirling one to test its quality.
Noctowl feathers—soft enough to silence wingbeats, sharp-eyed enough to see in dim light. The latter was too cruel to harvest, but the former made excellent renewable material. Wealthy collectors paid well for them.
Beep!
Just then, Silas's wristwatch buzzed.
League Mission Alert — Location: Viridian Forest, Sector 14.
...
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